


Stripper.

by Mirian_Rodrigues



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Pet Names, Smut, Stripper Dan Howell, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 19:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirian_Rodrigues/pseuds/Mirian_Rodrigues
Summary: He makes anyone want to touch him. He makes anyone want to kiss him. He makes anyone forget their name or what they were about to do seconds before he appears. He makes anyone go crazy, for, in the same way that he gives you paradise, he gives you hell for being forbidden. He is like fire, you feel the heat, the urge to approach desperately on cold nights, but you know you can't touch.





	Stripper.

**Author's Note:**

> Before the fanfic starts I'm going to leave how I imagined Dan and Phil in this fic to be.

([Dan](https://em.wattpad.com/be849332d92e1c8a1500273211d34ed19e21980d/687474703a2f2f6d656469612e74756d626c722e636f6d2f31383263613235366665393331636564383766363434633337653965303532622f74756d626c725f696e6c696e655f6d6e706434684b61346c31717a347267702e6a7067?s=fit&h=360&w=360&q=80)/[Phil](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/2959/3592/products/Black-Phil_1024x1024.JPG?v=1555521359))

Every Friday I would enter the same dark and gloomy club. The only source of light came from a low-lit, cheap wooden stage, a red light faintly positioned in the centre, two tall aluminium masts at each end, and a poorly arranged counter on the left corner, filled with a dangerous variety of strong drinks. It was not like it was a choice as if I planned the whole week to go to the same place. My body simply led me there before I could even think about what I was doing.

In the morning, my hands trembled with the excitement of knowing that at the end of the day I could see him dancing. There was nothing more provocative and mesmerizing than him. That dirty, precarious place would disappear from the moment his slim, cute body appeared on the stage and gifted everybody with a smile so calculatedly innocent. The first time I saw him, I was bewitched by his bright, seductive eyes; which I later discovered were an indefinite hazel-gold colour. He was a mystery hidden in the darkness of the night, delighting his precious, unknown slaves, thirsting for pleasure, for the miserable hour of merely observing his provocative act.

He makes anyone want to touch him. He makes anyone want to kiss him. He makes anyone forget their name or what they were about to do seconds before he appears. He makes anyone go crazy, for, in the same way that he gives you paradise, he gives you hell for being forbidden. He is like fire, you feel the heat, the urge to approach desperately on cold nights, but you know you can't touch. Nor the name by which he is called.

And that was the rule. He was untouchable. It appealed to men's imaginations and made them desire him, but anyone who dared to touch him was burned like a witch. And the worst punishment wasn't death, but the absolute denial, yet again, the tormented souls could only be hypnotized by him.

One more day, and there I was in the first row of poorly arranged chairs. The place was not quite full, but, as methodical as I am, every Friday I arrived at least an hour in advance so as not to miss the most privileged place in front of the stage. With the free time I had before the performances began, where the seconds made a point of crawling for hours, I had developed the mania of rubbing my hands against my thighs covered by tight dark jeans and every time he saw me making this, he smiled delightedly, realizing my excitement.

I was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, so I could always see him before he could hide behind the curtain. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and his arms, chest, and back were covered with the colourful, sensual lines of his tattoos. His reddish lips, which looked so soft, were beautifully decorated by a shiny ring and that caused me some spasms whenever he looked in my direction and insisted on sucking it into his mouth.

Today was no different. He arrived, slow steps echoing on the wooden floor making my stomach take a few anxious turns. But instead of just continuing his way into the darkness, he turned to me, his well-made eyebrow arching in an insinuating way. He stared at me with his bright eyes and came towards me, sat in front of me on the stage, his thighs tightened by the ripped jeans on his knee, legs remaining open so that I could be perfectly wedged between them.

"Here again, Lester?" he whispered with his voice getting a little thicker, a seductive smile tracing his pink lips. A small white straw hung out of his mouth and there was a small ledge on his left cheek. "Don't you think it's too early to be here alone, huh?"

I tilted my head towards him, the illumination serving me as an excuse for my face to be much closer to his face. I looked into his eyes and smirked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm always here at the same time. On the same weekday. In the same place. And you know that. Am I bothering you, Doll?"

He stared at me for a long time, his gaze wandering all over my body, causing the hairs on my arm to bristle with the heavy shiver running down my spine. He gave a mischievous grin, a small pop escaping his lips as he pulled the lollipop sensuously from inside his mouth. He tilted his face even further, his delicate nose a few inches against mine. Still, without removing his eyes from mine, he brushed the lollipop on his lips, then licked it in a circular and deliciously slow way. It was impossible not to feel hypnotized; my jacket just seemed to want to suffocate me instead of protecting me from the cold.

As soon as he saw me uncrossing my arms to quickly lower the zipper from my jacket, he gave an innocent laugh as if he hadn't realized what he had just done seconds ago. He rose from the stage and held out his arms, the lollipop back inside his mouth, his firm hands gripping mine when I threatened to throw the jacket on the floor. His body curved sensuously toward me, his wonderful warm lips pressed against my ear.

"Let me do that, Lester." His voice came out hoarse and lusty as his hands dropped mine to get my jacket off my shoulders, making it slip from the chair to the floor. "Hm, from above the stage you didn't seem to be that hot." He continued the teasing as he bit my ear lobe and slipped his nimble fingers through my button-up shirt.

I thought my body would explode, just by feeling the warmth of his fingers against me, I reached out my hands to grasp his waist, but he escaped like a cat jumping majestically on a wall. And lightly he jumped from the stage to the floor, his innocent laughter echoing again, as he walked.

"No touches, big boy, don't forget that."

I threw my head back, and as my perception was extremely shaken, I didn't realize I was being watched. My breathing was slightly uneven causing my chest to rise and fall a little faster than it should have. I was getting insane, completely crazy about him. I had to touch him, feel him, lay him somewhere and do anything I desired. But I had to be calm.

In the next few minutes, the house was filling up with thirsty men. Some spoke loudly, others asked for drinks on the counter, and others sat anxiously in the leftover chairs. Tonight, by what seemed, due to the movement, some would stay standing to enjoy the show. And I was restless, every cell of my being begging for him to appear, to make me lose the rest of my sanity. At the same time, I needed the hour to last forever, I wanted it to pass as fast as a second.

But when the lights faded, any kind of thought or worry vanished from my mind, being replaced by the loud, sensual sound that filled the room.

**_(Don't touch the girls, don't kiss the girls, I have the right to pull the girls. Get in a fight, on every night, the scratches, the bruises and the bites.)_ **

And there he was, walking slowly toward his beloved silver mast. He looked at it with devotion as he approached, his two hands closing around it as he just lowered his torso, his strong arms being lit by the now changing light to a lighter shade. He wore extremely tight black trousers and a white shirt that hung on his skin.

He turned his face toward his 'audience' with a provocative smile, making his light brown hair, fall on his face, which gave him a dangerously innocent appearance. Some excited screams were heard and he turned his back to the mast, leaning against it to raise and lower his body in a sensual way as he rubbed against it. He tipped his buttocks as he lowered his body as far as he could so his hands would touch the floor, slowly lowering his hands. He sucked on his lip piercing and crawled slowly to the end of the stage, his brown eyes meticulously assessing those in the front row before settling on mine.

He smiled, licking his lips, and lifted his torso as he knelt to run his hands over his body; his head hanging backwards, showing how delighted he was to realize how much he affected the crowd with his mesmerizing movements. He stood up slowly and moved his hips in a circular motion, as he finally pulled his t-shirt off.

**_(But I wanna touch and I wanna kiss. And if you say no then I will persist. With you tonight, you'll make it right. You know that you're wetting my appetite.)_ **

His body moved naturally, his hips moving deliciously with every hard beat of the music. As soon as the T-shirt was completely removed, he spun it with his hand over his head, swinging his hips. He smiled again, throwing the shirt in the audience, where a great tumult settled for a few seconds.

He walked slowly to the mast at the other end, holding it with one hand for a few turns, supporting the weight on his arm. He stopped as soon as he did the same with his other hand, leaning fully against the mast to rub against it, with his head swinging sideways; his strands of hair shaking and momentarily concealing his expressions. His lips were parted and his eyes closed as his hips moved more sensually; his head hanging back as he bit his lower lip.

My heart was hammering so hard against my chest that it was not difficult to imagine me having a heart attack at any moment. My hands were clinging tightly to the armrest of the chair and my lips were half open so I could send enough oxygen into my lungs. When he approached the edge of the stage again, he made it clear that it was intended to be right in front of me. He opened his zipper, moving his hips again and turned on his back so that, as he pulled off his tight trousers, his ass would be sticking towards me. He smiled innocently and bit the piercing in his lip before gesturing with his index finger provocatively as if daring me to go and get him.

**_(Don't know what you think you're doing to me. (Hey! Stripper, Hey! Stripper.) Don't know what you see it's getting to me. (Hey! Stripper, Hey! I wanna be your mister.)_ **

I held the armchair even harder, my body spasming, and I wanted to scream. I bit my lower lip so hard, that I felt the familiar taste of blood invading my mouth, my breathing even faster. The lighting didn't contribute to my physical state, making it even more attractive in the gloom; my pants so tight that I feared I would rip them at any moment.

He was only wearing a black brief boxer that contrasted wonderfully with his skin. Now he played a little game of lowering only one side of the waistband at a time, giggling as some men begged him to go faster and remove his last piece of clothing. But I couldn't take my eyes off every curve of that body in front of me, so close that if I stretched my arm, I could touch him. He had thick, firm thighs, and the volume evident in his underwear only made all the men there even more excited, crazy, imagining that touching him would be a little piece of heaven.

And just as he started, he stopped, making the screams grow louder. We all knew he never went beyond that, but it was never too much to dream.

He always made it clear that he was a stripper and not a prostitute, so he didn't go any further, despite the crazed cries of men throwing money as if it was confetti. A rain of money falling on the stage. He grinned, teasing them all by blowing kisses, one eyebrow raised, and then disappearing through the darkness of the curtain.

  
**_(Like you're perfume, your skin is smooth. The way you move, I'm in the mood. I want you to see me now.)_ **

I got up and nearly knocked over the chair, I had no time to lose. I pushed past some people, not looking back as I heard some irritable groans from a sudden bump, and entered the side passage in the dark curtain. There were a lot of people in there, busy and running from one place to another, but I wasn't exactly in a very observant moment to notice exactly what they were doing. I ran, my heart continuing to hammer hard in my chest, and as soon as I saw the door, from where I knew he would be, I opened it without a second thought, closing it with a loud crash as I entered.

As soon as I entered the room I saw him leaning against a small table, still wearing only his tight underwear, he came towards me; his hungry eyes scanning my body. His hands gripping the collar of my shirt tightly, throwing me against the door in a rude way, and his lips moved closer to mine.

"I thought you'd never come, Lester," he said almost voicelessly before devouring my lips in an avid kiss.

His lips were really soft and his tongue moved demanding against mine. In seconds his nimble fingers had already burst my buttons and my shirt was tossed on the floor; his fingernails clawing hard on my sides. I gave a long groan as his warm skin leaned against mine, an electric shock making our bodies squirm through contact so simple but so longed for. Our hips curled against each other, creating delicious and excruciating friction between our cocks.

He released my lips quickly and slid them to my neck, marking my skin with a variety of red and purple bruises, with the force his teeth pulled and bit. My hands gripped him brutally, pushing him to get him away from my body, just to catch a glimpse of him.

"Before... I wan- I want to know your name." I said breathlessly, my hands wandering unconsciously through that body I wanted to touch so badly.

He smiled in that same innocent way and pressed himself against me again, his velvety tongue playing on my earlobe, making me let out small choked gasps.

"Call me Doll, that's fine, I love it when you call me that." His hands wandered maliciously down the sides of my hips and pulled me hard, causing even more intense friction. There was a pause in which he let out a moan before continuing to speak. "It's so, uh, sexy."

**_(You get me girl, when you're nervous well and when your hand is in the thong. You may be right, I close them tight, you're saving the best for me tonight.)_ **

I squirmed and felt my head hit the door as he slipped his fingers to lower my zipper, my eyes instantly closing, slipping his finger into my pants; and even if I wanted it faster he wouldn't let me pull his hand so he would touch me completely and not just tease as he ran his fingertips across the extension of my cock over the thin fabric of my underwear.

"Hm, I want to hear it, Phil." he continued to whisper that maddeningly in my ear, his fingers pressing harder now, just to make him giggle because I groaned painfully. "Call me your Doll, go on."

I opened my eyes, gripping him tightly by the arms to once again push him away. I turned him quickly, his back to me, pushing him against the nearby table, wrapping my fingers in the hairs in the back of his hair, to pull him back, making him rest his head against my shoulder. I pressed my lips to his ear, just as he had done to me, thrusting my hips against his ass, making small circular movements, panting loudly.

"You want me to fuck you, yeah, Doll?" I whispered in a voice full with desire, giving an even stronger boost and delighting me in seeing him moan and squirm in a positive way. "I didn't hear you, what do you want me to do to you, Doll?"

"Fuck me now, Lester," he replied roughly, whimpering after realizing that I let him go to get rid of the clothes that separated us. "I don't need prep, already took care of that." he smiled, handing me a small bottle of lube and a pack of condom, I haven't even noticed in the table before.

I positioned myself at his entrance, my excitement not allowing me to penetrate him slowly, but rather making me give a strong push with the hip; our cries of pain and pleasure mingling in the air. He spread his hands against the surface of the table, his body bending further forward, making movements against my own to make me even faster and stronger inside him.

I pushed my nails at the sides of his hips, pulling him with even more force, his expression of delight and pleasure bowed in my direction, making me lose any trace of sanity if I still had any. And his moans, coming out of his lips so red, he had supernatural powers over me. I wanted to hear his moans for eternity, to keep him always satisfied.

I slid one hand from his hip to the front of his body, quickly wrapping his pulsing cock in my hand, moving it to the same rhythm as my thrusts. I knew he wouldn't last long, but it was enough for me to remember his face forever.

He squirmed, screamed and moaned uncontrollably, pushing against me and pulling at his piercing so hard that I feared he could tear his own lip. His legs started shaking and he hit the peak of pleasure, screamed harder, not taking too long to reach his orgasm, making me come a few minutes later, feeling my legs wobble with the long, sensual moan he gave in, calling my name again and again.

I leaned against his back, our breaths quick and noisy. Slowly I pulled back from him, taking care to remember with exactly every detail of when I finally got to touch my little doom, and kissed the back of his neck, licking it as soon as I heard a positive grunt in response. He turned slowly to face me, his now extremely hazel eyes shining brightly. He smiled, equally innocently and provocatively, and stroked the back of my neck with his fingertips.

"My name is Daniel. Daniel Howell, but for you, it's Doll," he said with a giggle.

I smiled at him, my lips quickly catching his in a long, delicate kiss.

"I hope... every Friday you come back here, big boy," Dan whispered then, his now childlike eyes looking at me expectantly. "Since you broke the rule that you can't touch me, there will be no harm if you always come to visit me."

I arched a brow, pulling him into a hug as I smirked against his neck.

"Of course it wouldn't be no harm, doll. Of course not."

**_(Don't know what you think you're doing to me. Hey! Stripper, Hey! Stripper. Don't know what you see it's getting to me. Hey! Stripper, Hey! I wanna be your mister!)_ **


End file.
